This copy is for your personal non-commercial use only. To order presentation-ready copies of Toronto Star content for distribution to colleagues, clients or customers, or inquire about permissions/licensing, please go to: www.TorontoStarReprints.com

This is a question I have been contemplating a lot lately in the lead-up to my fifth Father’s Day.

At 33 years old, I am part of a generation caught between past social norms of family dynamics — father as stoic breadwinner, mother filling in the domestic gaps — and more progressive views about raising kids, including a father being a primary caregiver, as I am to my 5-year-old son.

History lingers and it is sometimes challenging to avoid drawing comparisons between my role as a father and the roles other dads have played in their families.

Recently, I attended a parenting event with my son where, on more than one occasion, brand representatives treated me as a secondary parent.

Article Continued Below

“Please take one of our pamphlets home to your wife. If she needs additional information about our services, our contact details are on the back.”

“Perhaps you would like a coupon for these healthy food options we’re offering? We make it easier for your wife to prepare meals for your little one.”

Traditional stereotypes about fathers surfaced more than I would like to admit — I wasn’t viewed as a decision maker or nurturer to my son.

And when I think about what it means to be a father, I too find myself reverting back to adjectives such as strong, protective and provider — terms long associated with the role of a dad and held in contrast to caregiver and homemaker. These words may be what it means to be father to some, but, to me, they are tied to outdated notions of gender and masculinity, not parenting.

Society has a way of compartmentalizing different aspects of our lives. Parenting is a case and point: Mom and dad have categorized how we think about the act of parenting.

Is there a fundamental difference at the most surface level of how men and women parent? The roles that my wife and I have played as parents have been interchangeable since our son was born. From late-night feedings to changing diapers, disciplining him to comforting him, picking out his clothes to packing his lunches, and everything in between.

“Parent” by definition is a verb that requires the same actions from both parties.

Categorizing parents is a prime obstacle to equality. The public tends to put dads on a pedestal for being a visibly involved parent. It is not uncommon for a father to be commended for doing something as simple as taking his child to the park. He is viewed as a “helper” by giving his partner a break.

I’ve been told on numerous occasions when I’m with my son that I was kind to give my wife the day off.

While it is nice to be celebrated, treating dad as a special parent minimizes his contribution by perpetuating his parenting abilities as an anomaly. Until we think about mothers and fathers as part of a parenting whole, the opportunity to achieve balance for parents in society will be out of reach.

The truth is, men and women experience parenting with similar challenges and triumphs. A gender parallel does not have to be drawn — it’s time we remove the labels and refer to us as parents.

So, for me, what does it mean to be a father? Simply being a parent — providing unconditional love, guidance, safety, lessons and friendship.

Mathew Lajoie is a stay-at-home-dad who lives in Toronto with his wife and son. He is passionate about writing and when he's not spending time with his family, he is creating a narrative about modern parenthood on his blog, http://www.youaredadtome.com/ youaredadtome.comEND.

More from the Toronto Star & Partners

LOADING

Copyright owned or licensed by Toronto Star Newspapers Limited. All rights reserved. Republication or distribution of this content is expressly prohibited without the prior written consent of Toronto Star Newspapers Limited and/or its licensors. To order copies of Toronto Star articles, please go to: www.TorontoStarReprints.com